


At a Bar

by sugarby



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 1/4 canon, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Hinata w a bit of snark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7974925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarby/pseuds/sugarby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a small, local bar, there's a disappointed Tobio and there's a nosy, pint-sized, fiery tongued Shoyo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At a Bar

**Author's Note:**

> . Will you believe me if I tell you this short piece is inspired by a scene in Bates Motel, hmm? Because that's it.
> 
> . It's eleven o'clock here and I need to sleep, and this thing right here is nothing major but I feel like I can just post it _(and spruce up later)_ and like it as it is because this was about two notes worth in my phone (and not everything has to be A-Star perfect bc that's stressful AF). Idk how I got it this long but I'm glad. And I'm sorry the title is so unoriginal— _again_ , it's eleven o'clock.

It's late and the town's got a cloak of shadows and quiet over it like a thick veil, but not so late a time nor thick a veil Tobio's out of options. He thinks he could've had it easier staying in his bedroom, laying awake. But then he'd be there for a long time and things like responsibilities and figuring out what the fuck to do next would plague him, and yet he still wouldn't have will to do much. He'd think and think and lie in his bed, but be no further from his dejection.

His parents are gone so there's no need to leave a note. It's past ten and there's no party to be at, so he doesn't mind that he leaves his apartment so casually in a thick hoodie, a beanie, sweats and sneakers; he's comfy, okay, and that's a lot to him at this time. Tobio's got his student ID card in his trouser pocket, fingers latching on to its smooth edges. He thinks 'why not'? and hits the local drinking establishment. He's sluggish so his feet walk him all the way there, under the evening night sky and stars. It's a little chilly so he hoists up the collar of his jacket around his neck, but in his gut it's like he's hiding in shame rather than the cold.

The bar is small and tidy-looking on the outside, half-packed and humid inside, patrons and their drinks strong to the nasal sense. The theme is wood and brown and cherry red, polished in antique and unusual decor all around from the door to the bar on the other end. Tobio stalks over, flashes his ID to asks for a warm-up drink to get him going before the rest he plans to order, then lays his arm across the counter and his head on top.

"You look like you're gonna cry."

Tobio sighs, long and heavy. He noticed a guy, Ginger and slim and small, occupying the stool beside him but didn't realize this is the kind of bar where people are chatty to strangers. "If that's a pick-up line, it sucks."

"It's not. You really do look like you're gonna."

"Maybe you're just projecting; maybe you're the one who wants to cry." Tobio doesn't look up but bets the Ginger-head's giving him the most confused of looks with the highest of eyebrow raises. He knows he isn't making sense. Shit. He talks nonsense when he's emotional and ashamed of it—hell, and he talks oddly enough on a day to day basis.

Ginger-head chuckles softly to himself at the _cracked_ defense. "Your eyes are teary."

"Shut up." Tobio curtly says then regrets immediately. He's a wreck. Fist scrunching beside his head, he wills an excuse out. "...The wind. It's chilly outside, so..." so some chill in the air swept past his eyes and left behind tears. That's legitimately what he's going along with.

Ginger-head rests his head on an open palm and watches like he's viewing entertainment TV. "Your face is red. And your cheeks looked wet when you came in."

"Maybe it rained."

"Did it?"

"No."

"People say it's good to cry. But then some people also say that it makes you look ugly. I dunno. My mom says it'll give you irreversible wrinkles."

"Well you look like a squashed kindergartner." Tobio bites back, too desperate to take a minute and think about what's actually coming out of his mouth. He feels a little guilty afterward, but the emotions still within him from before are stronger and dictate that he continue to be insufferable. worst company. "The business of illegitimate IDs must be doing better these days."

On Ginger-head's cue to assumedly blush, he laughs instead. "Hey, fuck you. I'm twenty-one."

"I don't care." Tobio just sighs again. But that's the honest truth, he doesn't care; he doesn't give a crap about much else past his current lows. He could be taking things too far but it's the only way he knows to take it. He keeps his head across his awkwardly out-stretched arm and just lays in the silence. It goes on long enough, admit the background chit and chat and clinks of glasses, for him to think the guy sitting beside him has finally given up and will leave him to wallow. But Ginger-head gives up the silence; he decided to toy with him, let him think the silence was attainable with him around.

"Sooo...why were you crying?"

"Oh my _God_ , you don't give up."

"Don't really know how to. It's my best and most annoying trait, according to my friends." In response, Tobio mumbles that such an answer poses the question of how friends were even attainable. "Tell me why you're upset."

"'Cause you won't leave me alone."

"Not my fault your lies suck."

" _You_ suck, Dumbass." Tobio isn't entirely sure why that name's come about but in the heat of the spat it feels like it fits.

"I'll listen." says Ginger-head, soft-spoken and easy with sincerity at the base of his tongue, on the edge of his growing smile. "We don't know one another but, hey," an arm leans out to gesture to the mass of punters behind them, heavy in conversation, their drinks and casual games of Pool or Darts. "We're in a bar and in bars that's what people do. Right? They drink and vent and cry—"

"I wasn't cr—"

"And they _talk_."

Tobio closes his eyes and they roll in secrecy, painfully exaggerated, and he takes a deep breath though it doesn't completely calm him. Why is this guy so invested? He's one of those people who need to make others happy otherwise they can't function or something, Tobio figures. They're nosy and annoying—it really doesn't matter in the least if maybe Ginger-head is a little cute in the face, and in his stupid, wacky hair. Tobio mulls it over, because there's probably no quick way to escape this guy, and he's not going to up and leave the bar before he's introduced to a bruising, numbing migraine and losing memories of today.

Ginger-head expectantly kicks his legs back and forth beneath his stool, elbow on the bar and hand under his chin. The way he looks right now, thinks Tobio, is like a child waiting to hear a bed-time story.

"It's nothing. It'll sound stupid but...I wasn't accepted in to my first choice college. And yeah, guess I'm upset about it."

"Oh. That it?"

" _What_?!"

Ginger-head shakes his head, waves his hands up and about and leans away some. "N-No, sorry! I went ahead and decided already that you were torn up over a huge break-up or something!"

"I'm not. What the hell?"

"Sorry! I'm sorry! That's _good_." For all he's talked and how forward he's been, it's a sight to see Ginger-heard mildly, if not very much, frightened. "So which college is it that you wanted to get in to?"

Tobio looks down sorrowfully at the counter, "...Shiratorizawa. It's the highest-ranked sports power house."

"Holy shit! Isn't that, like...don't only the best get in? Only the really good players?"

Tobio reaches over and grabs a fistful of wild, ginger hair. " _What the fuck_ are you saying? That _I can't play for shit_?"

"I haven't seen you play  _whatever it is_ you play, so how would I know?! Ow, ow, ow! Seriously, you're hurting me! Le'go!"

"Volleyball."

"Ow! Huh?"

Tobio lets him go. "That's the 'whatever' I play, dumbass."

Ginger-head's eyes seem to grow and glow. Out comes his most excited response yet, "That's...fucking AWESOME! Me too! Me too! Oh my God! No fucking way! I play too!"

"...Really?" Tobio asks, squinting at him.

"I know I'm short but I jump really high! Really! I jump off the ground like 'whoosh' and go higher than the net, high enough to spike the ball like 'bam' past the blockers and leave them on the ground like 'boof'!"

"What the fuck are you even saying right now? Are you a _foreigner_?"

" _God_! Guess you're gonna have to play me to believe it." For the first time in the entire evening, they progress in an official and sensible way, with Ginger-heard formally holding out a hand and putting a name to his face. "I'm Shouyou Hinata, by the way. If I don't tell you now, you'll probably curse me in your sleep by calling me 'Ginger-nut' or something."

Tobio doesn't deny it. He politely shakes the hand, "Tobio Kageyama. If you're as good as you say then I hope the teammates I'll be meeting will be much better."

"Hey, I said I'm good!  So you haven't met them? Oh, right, of course! God, sorry. You didn't get in to Shiratori."

"I'm going to my second choice instead: Karasuno."

Shouyou is so astounded, physically expressing it by nearly falling from his stool, flailing about excitedly rather than to balance himself. It looks to Tobio like his news has shocked this guy in to a seizure. "THAT'S WHERE I FUCKING GO! You gotta be the transfer!"

"Yeah. I've had to move because of...well..."

"SHIRATORIIIII!"

"Why are you so friggin' loud?"

"SHIT! MY BAD!"

"Shut up!"

Shouyou blushes and ducks his head and presses his arms to his sides, strictly willing himself to relax. It's antics like these that startle and worry his mother in to thinking he needs prescribed medication. "Sorry! I'm really sorry!" he scratches his head a bit and looks around as if searching for more to say. "But, um, yeah...this is really awesome, Kageyama." he's easily all smiles in the next moment, "Haha, oh my God! Hi!"

"Hi."

"Damn. My seniors have all been googly-eyed over you joining us. Never thought you'd be like this."

"That better be a good thing."

"I'll put it this way: Dark, tall, mysterious. You're like the guy a lot of girls dream about. Even with your scary face."

"I can't help the face I was born with!"

"I'm not complaining, you're handsome."

Tobio huffs and turns away, "Doubt it. I'm no good with people...they tend to avoid me."

"That's 'cause you're scary as fuck. But I can help you make friends!"

"No, that's okay."

"Well, one thing that isn't okay," Shouyou pats his stomach. "I forgot to eat dinner. Wanna grab a bite with me?"

"Look, you say we're on the same team now and all, but I _literally_ just met you in the last fifteen or so minutes."

"Aww, what?" Shouyou coos, standing with his jacket still hanging by his shoulders, slapping some money down on the bar for his drink. "You scared a 'squashed kindergartner's gonna kidnap you?"

Tobio stands up too. "Shut up. Maybe I'm not hungry!" His stomach audibly argues with a growl.

Shouyou grins and he's heading out the door with Tobio lagging behind, half-willing and half looking to exit and return to his bed. "I hope you play better than you lie, because in that department, you _are_ shit." He and his stomach feel certain oriental food calling him and he visualizes meat buns sailing along in his head. Shouyou hopes he can eat many. Looking over his shoulder, he also has hopes for the near future of his youthful, memorable sports days to come.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know but I like the idea of Hinata growing up to be so gorgeous and refined but still retain his wild, fun nature :)


End file.
